My cake for Saturday night turned out well if I do say so. I had been asked to make something chocolate, so I had found the richest, most chocolately dessert I could. Two whole boxes of Scharffenberger chocolate. I had to go to the store three times: Friday night to get the ingredients, then Saturday morning when I discovered we were out of sugar, then again Saturday afternoon when I discovered we were out of vanilla. Seems like that's always the way, especially when I haven't baked in a long time.
The cake had three layers: a nearly flourless cake on the bottom, a mousse in the middle, and whipped cream and fruit (strawberries and raspberries) on top, and I had some time while the cake cooled. So I mowed the lawn. The cake was done just in time, and the mouse set before we cut it, and I couldn't ask for more. For my taste, I would have preferred the cake layer to be a little more cake-like and a little less like a fudge brownie. But it was a hit at the party. They did a cookout with hamburgers and brats and I wore my diabolical hot dog shirt for the occasion. and the weather was perfect for sitting outside. Warm enough but no mosquitos yet. It won't be like this for long.
I had my meeting with the WWII vet and it went really well. He was a charming man, full of interesting stories and excited about getting to tell them. I think my favorite story was about a Nazi sub which surrendered to his destroyer in the North Atlantic, at the end of the war. The German officers came over to their ship to surrender, and they sent a crew of officers to command the sub. (Interestingly, he said that was called the "prize crew" just like in the Aubrey-Maturin novels.) He said the Germans spoke English well enough to get along, but not well enough to understand everything. And at that time, because the war was over, they were allowed to listen to swing music on the PA system. So the sailors had a little joke on the Germans by requesting the song "There'll Be a Hot Time in the Town of Berlin" over and over. He said they must have played that song ten times a day while the Germans were on board. They would also play "Schickelgruber," a Kurt Weill song about Hitler. I'm kind of surprised the Germans didn't figure that one out.
Yesterday I did my Irving Berlin tribute show, which came together surprisingly well considering how little time I had to prepare. I should have done it Saturday night after the cookout but I was so tired that I waited until Sunday morning. And then overslept until 8 and then only had a couple of hours to prepare. Also I had brunch with D. and S., who as it turned out had a bet over whether I hate eggs. (I do; D won.)
And I seem to have gotten a cold. I thought over the weekend that I was exhausted all the time because I was doing so much. But looking back, I didn't do that much. I think it's more likely that I was starting to feel sick and so normal activity seemed like an extreme exertion.
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